Page 120 of Something Like Winter
“So tell me why you were outside that bar, wet and hungry like an abandoned puppy.”
“Oh, I like that!” Ryan grinned, but then his eyes dropped to the table. “It’s just been a rough month.”
“How so?”
“Well, freshman year was definitely awesome. Instead of getting called a fag every day, I was meeting all these other gay guys. Finally, you know? If only high school could have been like that. Anyway, I guess the freedom went to my head, because when I went home for the summer, I didn’t stop being me.”
“You came out?”
“Yup! First to my mom, who totally flipped.” Ryan made a face. “She gave me the whole ‘it’s just a phase’ spiel, which sucked. Then she told my dad, and the shit really hit the fan. He blamed me, my mother, and eventually college. I stuck to my guns, but now I wish I hadn’t.”
Tim sighed. “My coming out story wasn’t quite that bad, but my parents didn’t take it well, either. I don’t regret doing it, though. Living a lie felt worse. Believe me, you end up paying the price eventually.”
“Maybe. It’s too late now anyway.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “I kept fighting with my parents, and things got bad enough that they kicked me out. Well, maybe I threatened to leave. Either way, I’m not going back there. I was staying with some friends, but then I got in a fight with them over something stupid.” Ryan gestured down his torso. “And thus the pathetic creature you see now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. I’m not a hustler though. I mean… you saved me just in time.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ryan looked him over. “So what do you do?”
“You mean my job?” Always an awkward question. “I have a degree in architecture, but I’m on sabbatical.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means I’m not working or doing much of anything right now.”
“Lucky,” Ryan said wistfully.
“I suppose. It gets boring.”
“I wouldn’t get bored.” Ryan’s eyes twinkled as he dreamed. “I would sleep in every morning, and when I woke up I’d stay in bed until noon watching television. Then I would get up, take a shower and make myself pretty so I could order pizza.”
“Why bother if you aren’t going out?” Tim asked.
“Neverlet the public see anything but your very best,” Ryan said with celebrity wisdom. “Even if it’s just a delivery boy. Then I would take my spoils to the couch and eat slowly while watching daytime soaps or talk shows.”
“That’s a lot of TV,” Tim pointed out.
“Which is why in the evening I would grow restless and go out dancing. It’s the only way to burn off the carbs. Then I would end the perfect day by getting drunk or whatever.” Ryan cutely crinkled his nose. “In my fantasies I’m old enough to buy beer, so there.”
Tim shook his head. “Sorry, but that sounds boring.”
“Hm,” Ryan mused. “What if you added another person to the equation? The morning in bed wouldn’t be spent watching TV, and those daytime soaps are a lot more fun if you trash-talk them with someone. No need to go on the prowl in the evening, either, not if you have drinks and music at home.”
“It just so happens I do,” Tim said, willingly taking the bait.
Ryan demonstrated his bedroom eyes. “Then let’s go.”
Tim mentally took a few steps back. “I promised you a meal. First we eat. If you really need a place to stay, you can crash with me this weekend and fulfill that dream of yours. But you’ll have your own room. No—” Tim hesitated as the waitress approached with their food, finishing with a whisper. “No funny business.”
“Funny business?” Ryan snorted, then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
When Tim brought him home later, he was true to his word. After letting Chinchilla out in the backyard, they made their way upstairs. Tim didn’t offer Ryan a drink, mostly because he didn’t want one himself, or the weakness it would bring.
“This is your room,” he said, holding open the door.
